


The Kings and the Pregnancy

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [31]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drama, Female Pregnancy, M/M, Mpreg?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time for a baby, another heir of Durin?  Someone requested an mpreg: is this what this story’s about?  Maybe, maybe not, LOL.  Hope this one gives everyone a laugh – but will poor Thorin be laughing?</p><p>One of more than 30 Thorinduil stories.  They are  all tied together in a story arc but each can be read as a standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings and the Pregnancy

.o00o.

 

The Kings and the Pregnancy

 

Pt I

 

_“A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!”_

 

Thorin was in the walled garden of Erebor, kneeling in the dirt in his shirt and breeches, trying to dig up some obstinate weeds from the vegetable patch.  The garden had never been well looked after, not even before the dragon came, but, when Thranduil accidentally came across it one day, he had gone into raptures at its possibilities and Thorin, just to please him, began to spend some time knocking it into shape.

 

Now, it was a lovely place to seek a bit of peace and quiet on a sunny day.  There was a lawn and shady fruit trees and the borders were overflowing with colourful flowers.  The area was not overlooked and it had a high, stone wall with a single door.  Thranduil would sometimes show his gratitude to Thorin for expending so much energy on the place by locking the door and, with the outside world conveniently shut away, he would pull the dwarf down onto a soft patch of grass and in the shade of a lovely cherry tree, covered in romantic blossom, he would let his lover screw him for a few happy hours.

 

Ever since the denoument over Haldir, Thranduil had been more content for the dwarf to take up the dominant role.  They understood each other now: there were no more secrets and it no longer seemed to matter any more who was on top and who on the bottom.

 

Now Thorin was working hard on the vegetable patch with delightful but rather lewd visions in his head of how grateful the elven king would be once he turned up with a fresh basket of salad, the fruits of his toils.

 

Unannounced, the beautiful Brangwyn, wife of his heir, entered the garden in search of him.  She grinned when she saw the king bent over so diligently at his task and gave him a smart slap on his behind.  Thorin started and, looking over his shoulder, he returned the dwarven woman’s grin.  “You’d better not let Thranduil catch you bending over like that,” she laughed.  “You might put ideas in his head.”

 

“And who says I wouldn’t _want_ to put ideas in his head?” he replied with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“You two are just too naughty for this world,” she tutted as he got to his feet.  “I’m not quite sure if I approve of you being my friend.”

 

Then, “Come on,” she said, holding up a hamper she was carrying.  “You’ve worked long enough and I’ve got some treats here for you.”

 

They sat down under a tree together and Brangwyn produced meats and pies and cakes.  Thorin ate his fill and leaned back against the tree-trunk, patting his stomach with a sigh.  “That was good,” he said, as she poured him a glass of wine.  “What put it in your head to do this for me?”

 

She rested her head on his shoulder and linked her arm in his.  “I’ve got a bit of news,” she said.  “And I wanted to be the first to tell you.”

 

“Something nice?” he smiled down at her.

 

“Something lovely,” she replied.  “I’m pregnant.  Another heir of Durin to secure the line.”

 

Thorin choked on his wine and then gawped at her.  “How did that happen?” he asked stupidly.

 

“Oh, you know,” she grinned.  “The usual way.”

 

Thorin gave her a delighted smile and then folded her in his arms in a great bear hug.

 

“This is wonderful,” he murmured against her hair.  “Really wonderful.  I can’t wait to tell Thranduil.”

 

She looked up at him and there were tears in her eyes.  Thorin wiped them gently away with his thumb.  “Why the tears?” he asked.

 

Her voice caught on a little sob.  “This baby could have been yours,” she said.  “And now you will never know what it is to be a father.”

 

He kissed the tip of her nose.  “I have what I want most in the world,” he said softly, “and that’s Thranduil.  Now we shall also have a child – your child.  We shall be as second parents, don’t you worry.”

 

She hugged and kissed him back.  “Off you go then and tell Thranduil the good news.  He’ll be in such a flap,” she giggled.

 

.o00o.

 

“Such a flap” was rather wide of the mark.  The elven king’s eyes opened in shock; then he ran up to the end of the room; and then he ran back again.  And then he seized Thorin by the shoulders.  “I don’t believe it!” he crowed.  “We’re going to have a baby!”

 

“No,” laughed Thorin.  “Brangwyn is going to have a baby.”

 

“Same difference,” said the elf, waving an elegant hand dismissively.  “Fetch me a piece of paper, Thorin.  At once!”

 

“Why?” asked Thorin curiously.

 

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!  We need to write down a list of names, of course….And we need to send messengers into Dale without delay.”

 

And when Thorin looked puzzled, he tutted.  “Oh, you’re going to be a hopeless father,” he sighed, casting his eyes up.  “We need to get a set of dress-makers and embroiderers together to make baby clothes.  If it was left up to you, the poor little thing would be going around naked.”

 

Thorin took Thranduil gently by the hand and soothed him.  “It’s not our baby,” he said quietly.  “These are all things for Brangwyn and Young Thorin to discuss and decide upon.”

 

Thranduil blinked as if this fact hadn’t occurred to him…..and then he burst into tears.  Thorin understood and folded him in his arms.  “It should have been yours, Thorin,” the elven king sobbed.  “It should have been yours and it is the one thing that I cannot give you.”

 

“You have given me all that I ever wanted, my love,” the dwarven king murmured.  “And now I shall also have an heir.”

 

The elf cried even harder.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

 

_Pregnancy: "My least favorite has been the nausea, and my favorite is the belly."_

 

Thranduil had a very bad night.  He tossed and turned and, when the morning came, he was feeling quite ill.  He sat up, groaning against the pillow and, then, just as Thorin was about to ask what he could do for him, he leaped out of bed, grabbed a decorative basin and was sick.

 

Thorin helped the shaking and sweating king back into bed and fussed about him.  He was all for rushing off to get Oin but Thranduil stopped him and, an hour later, he claimed he was feeling a lot better.  He felt well enough by the afternoon for the two of them to go off and visit the expectant couple.  Thorin stood in one corner with the prince, saying manly things to him, whilst Thranduil and Brangwyn huddled head to head in another corner, giggling together.

 

“What were you two talking about?” the dwarf asked him curiously as they walked back to their apartment.

 

“Oh, you know, girly things,” said Thranduil airily.

 

And, no, Thorin didn’t know.

 

The next morning, the elven king felt unwell again and this time, Thorin insisted on fetching Oin.  The dwarven doctor was vaguely puzzled.  “I can’t find anything specific,” he concluded, “but he possibly has a passing sickness picked up from somewhere.  He’ll be better in a few days.”

 

But, a few days went by and Thranduil was no better; the only good thing was that, as the day advanced, the worst of his symptoms seemed to disappear – only to return again the next morning.  This went on for several weeks.  He had not been well enough to return to Mirkwood and Thorin was beginning to look grey and haggard.  One morning the dwarf went downstairs to prepare a breakfast tray for his lover with his own hand, only to return to find the elven king out of bed and standing in front of a mirror.  Thranduil turned as he entered and gave him a radiant smile. “I feel so much better this morning,” he said, “especially now that I’ve worked out what’s wrong with me.”

 

And he smoothed the silken sleeping gown down over his stomach and turned sidewise.  “Look!” he announced in triumphant tones.  And the dwarf could see a slight swelling of the elven king’s belly.  “I’m pregnant!” 

 

And Thorin fainted clean away.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin came to with his head in Thranduil’s lap.  The elven king was gently stroking his hair and there was a faraway look in his eyes.  “It must have been that beautiful time in the garden two months ago – do you remember?  There were daffodils and primroses everywhere and it was the first warm day of spring.  We made love all afternoon and it felt like something really special.  I’m sure that’s when it happened.”

 

“Well,” said Thorin rather dazedly, “we fuck so often, I don’t see how you can pinpoint a day.”

 

“But, when you’re pregnant,” was the dreamy response, “you just seem to know such things……And don’t use that word,” he added rather sharply.  “We ‘made love’.  You’re so coarse.”

 

Thorin struggled into a sitting position and common sense took over.  “Look, my love,” he said gently, because the elf was acting so strangely, “you can’t be pregnant because you’re not a woman.”

 

Thranduil patted his hand.  “Ah, yes,” he said with an unnerving certainty, “but we are an unusual dwarf/elf pairing.  Anything might happen, you know.  I _feel_ pregnant and I _look_ pregnant.  You men just don’t understand these things.”  And he smiled so sweetly that Thorin couldn’t find it in himself to gainsay him.  But the swelling of his lover’s belly was so odd that he felt concerned enough to visit Oin that very morning.

 

“He says he’s pregnant.”

 

“Did you say ‘pregnant’?” exclaimed Oin, adjusting his ear trumpet.

 

“Yes, you heard me right.  He reckons that it’s possible since we’re a dwarf/elf pairing.”  And Thorin shook his head in disbelief.

 

Oin frowned.  “Unlikely,” he grunted.  “But I’ll visit straight away.”

 

The elven king was more than pleased to submit to an examination and chattered on about how wonderful it was to be expecting a baby whilst Oin poked and prodded.

 

“You’re in good health,” he muttered non-committally at last and then, as Thranduil hummed happily to himself and got dressed, he gestured Thorin into the other room.

 

“Well,” said Oin frowning, “he’s not pregnant but he’s showing all the symptoms.  I’m afraid we have a phantom pregnancy here.”

 

Thorin raised an enquiring eyebrow and the elderly dwarf explained further: “It happens when someone wants a child as much as Thranduil does and now he has Brangywn’s maternal state as an example.  There’s a good chance he may unwittingly imitate the whole of her pregnancy and will only realise that it’s not real after she produces a baby and he doesn’t.”

 

“Shall I talk to him and persuade him that it’s all in his mind?” asked a worried Thorin.

 

Oin thought for a bit and then concluded: “No, that could be very damaging to his elven psyche.  I think you’ll have to play along with him – he will be experiencing what will seem like, to him, genuine symptoms.  Support him and everything will resolve itself in the end.”

 

Thorin sighed.  Why couldn’t life just be _simple_?

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

_“I am entirely capable."_ _  
"Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?”_

 

The next question for Thorin was should he or shouldn’t he tell people that Thranduil’s pregnancy was all in his mind?  In the end, he decided to let things ride so that the elf could enjoy a bit of fuss.  It might help a little when the truth of the matter came home to him.

 

Now that the elf was past his morning sickness, he was dying to see Brangwyn so that they could share their experiences.  The dwarf woman was thrilled for him and accepted his contention that this had miraculously occurred because of the dwarf/elf relationship.  “How amazing!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.  “It sounds as if we might have our babies on practically the same day!”  And she tucked her arm in his and led him away to have a good gossip.

 

A concerned Balin came to visit.  “Young Thorin is your heir, Thorin,” he said.  “And you have signed a contract to that effect.  I hope that you having a child of your own won’t muddy the waters.”

 

Thorin shifted rather uncomfortably in his chair at not telling his old friend the truth of the matter.  “The child will be half-elven,” he finally said, “and this will be a bar to the dwarven throne.”  Thus Balin went away satisfied.

 

“Oh, and by the way,” he said as he was halfway out the door, “I’m so very pleased for the both of you.”

 

It was also decided that Thranduil would remain in Erebor and Legolas, therefore, came to visit so that he could receive instructions on the management of Mirkwood.  He didn’t know how he felt about his father’s condition or about the thought of a sibling.

 

Thorin cleared his throat.  “This pregnancy might not sit well in the Mirkwood court.  So we thought it would be for the best if your father stayed here.”

 

Legolas had to agree.

 

.o00o.

 

As the weeks passed, Thranduil continued to keep in step with Brangwyn and his belly became equally swollen.  Even though the dwarven king knew it was a phantom pregnancy, Thorin had to feel sorry for his lover as he became progressively more clumsy, suffered from acid reflux and had trouble sleeping at night.  He tried to be considerate and tender which was difficult sometimes because Thranduil became more irritable and grouchy.  When he had had a particularly bad day with his love, Thorin felt truly hard done by, especially since sex was off the menu.  “We don’t want to hurt the baby, do we?” Thranduil had said very early on.  And now the dwarf was feeling very, very frustrated every night when he climbed into bed with the elven king.

 

Thranduil had taken to wearing a thick, linen nightie.  “I don’t want to make things difficult for you,” he had said, “by lying next to you with no clothes on…….although I’m sure that I’m totally unfanciable now that I’ve put on so much weight.”

 

Actually and unfortunately, this wasn’t true.  Thranduil’s smell had changed and it drew Thorin ineluctably to him and all that the dwarf could think of was having a jolly good fuck with his partner.  And, when the elf had fallen asleep, Thorin would slide the linen shift gently up his body and, snuggling into his back, would run his hand lightly over that swollen belly.  It felt wonderful – as smooth as silk and so full of promise.  Thorin would groan with desire and finally, he would be forced to get up and have a cold bath.

 

Thranduil guessed at how frustrated Thorin must feel and, in the end, found himself discussing the matter with Brangwyn.  They talked about everything these days and it was so satisfying to have a female friend in the same condition.

 

“But, you don’t have to go without sex,” Brangwyn laughed.  And she explained all the positions that the two of them could get into so that it was comfortable for them both.  Thranduil went off cheerfully to tell Thorin.

 

It was the afternoon and, when Thranduil entered their apartment after his visit to Brangwyn, he found Thorin sitting there, working on some document or other.

 

“Come on,” he laughed, tossing the parchment to one side.  “Let’s make love.”

 

Thorin looked taken aback.  “But….but…what about the baby?” he stuttered.

 

“I’ve been talking to Bragwyn about that and she’s told me all about these positions.  It’s perfectly safe, you know, if you do it properly.”  And he pulled off Thorin’s clothes and dragged him into bed.

 

“I’m not too ugly?” the elf asked anxiously.  “You will be able to get it up?”

 

And Thorin, who felt as though he had been ‘up’ for weeks now, assured him that there was no need to worry on that score.

 

Thranduil wiggled backwards into the dwarf’s crotch and Thorin groaned _.  I shall explode_ , he thought, _if I don’t get relief soon_.  But, relief came at last.

 

“Penetration from behind,” said the elf, “is the best way.  And you can support my belly too.  That will help.”

 

Ecstatically, Thorin sank deep inside his lover, at the same time stroking that wonderful belly.  Within minutes he had come.

 

“Oh,” said Thranduil, “that was rather disappointing.”

 

“Don’t worry,” the dwarf murmured throatily in his ear.  “I’ve been saving it up.  I may have spent one but there are plenty more in the kitty.”

 

Their love-making lasted all afternoon and Thorin was able to reassure Thranduil that he still had more to spare for later that night when they came back from dinner.

 

The elf was very pleased and fluttered his eyelashes coyly.  “And I thought you wouldn’t want me ever again.”

 

 _If only you knew_ , thought the dwarven king.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

_“The best part about having kids is not actually having to have kids. Thank you, women.”_

 

The long, hot summer passed wearily and, as the mellow autumnal weather set in and made it more bearable for Thranduil and Brangwyn, their time finally came upon them.

 

Brangwyn retired to her bed first with contractions and, when he heard, this triggered Thranduil’s contractions too.  Initially, Thorin didn’t know which way to turn: should he support his heir, Young Thorin, since his baby was a real one, or should he stay with Thranduil?  But, when it became obvious that the elf was experiencing quite extreme pain, no matter what the cause, the dwarf knew where his duty lay.

 

He sat by Thranduil’s side, holding his hand and mopping his brow with cool, wet cloths.  As the hours wore on and Thranduil became more exhausted, he also became more bad-tempered.  “I hope you enjoyed that fuck last night, Thorin,” he snapped, “because that’s the last one you’re likely to have – ever!  If you honestly think that I am prepared to go through this again, then you’ve got another think coming.  You can keep your hands – and that cock of yours – to yourself from now on!  Is that understood?”

 

Thorin sighed and wondered where all this would eventually lead.  Then, after about eight hours of torment for both of them, Young Thorin finally came bursting through the door.  “It’s a boy!” he yelled in excitement. 

 

At this, Thranduil gave a gut-wrenching, piercing scream and then collapsed back upon the pillow, his face grey and sweating.  A shocked prince stood with his mouth agape.  “Is he alright?” he asked. 

 

Thorin felt his partner’s pulse.  “Yes, don’t worry,” he reassured him.  “Now get yourself off back to Brangwyn.”  And Young Thorin took his leave with relief.

 

The dwarven king bent over his lover anxiously and Thranduil slowly opened his eyes.  “Is it all over?” the elf asked.

 

Thorin wasn’t quite sure what to say and so, in the end, he continued to play the game and indulged in a bit of wish fulfilment.  “It’s a beautiful baby girl,” he whispered.  “What shall we call her?”

 

Thranduil yawned and his eyelids fluttered.  “Don’t be silly, Thorin,” he murmured, before falling asleep.

 

.o00o.

 

Thranduil was finally woken up once more when Young Thorin returned with the baby in his arms.  The child was fractious and grizzling and the elven king stirred.

 

“What happened to your baby?” the prince asked Thorin anxiously.

 

Before Thorin could answer, the elf stretched and opened his eyes sleepily.  “There was no baby,” he said calmly.  “It’s known as a phantom pregnancy.  But, silly-billy here” – and he nodded towards the dwarf – “persuaded everyone it was real.”  Thorin sat with his mouth open.

 

“You see,” continued Thranduil, “he wanted a baby so much that it had a psychological and physical effect on me.  I played along, of course, although much of what I went through seemed very real…..and Brangwyn and I had a really good time together.”

 

Thorin couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Well, of all the…….!!

 

“You know,” said Thranduil in a confidential aside to the prince, “I think he’s really turned on by pregnancy.  But, if he thinks that I’m going to go through that again, just to satisfy his sexual needs….”

 

Young Thorin handed the baby to Thorin and sat down by the bed.  “Now, it’s funny you should say that,” he said, “because when Brangwyn was pregnant – you know, like really big - I found it a huge turn-on too.”  And the elven king and the prince put their heads together for a really good gossip, whilst Thorin was left holding the crying baby with his mouth opening and closing like a stranded fish.

 

.o00o.

 

Soon, the whole court knew that Brangwyn had had a baby boy and that its name was Durin.  And that Thranduil hadn’t had a baby because this had been all the fruits of Thorin’s longing for a child and his vivid imagination.

 

They sighed amongst themselves.  “He was always so good with Fili and Kili when they were little lads,” they said to each other.

 

“Yes, we know he loves Thranduil but I don’t think he ever came to terms with not being able to have his own children.”

 

“But, it was so sweet the way he looked after the elf when he thought he was pregnant, wasn’t it?”

 

“And the way that Thranduil swelled up shows just how much he cares for our king.”

 

So romantic, really.”

 

“We’ll have to be especially kind to him when we see him next.  It must have been quite a shock when Brangwyn had a baby but Thranduil didn’t.”

 

“What a king he has been!  Now he’ll have to be as a second father to baby Durin.  That’ll help him get over things.”

 

And so they all chattered on in their kindly way.

 

Thorin and Thranduil, left on their own once more, were silent for a while.  Then the elven king took the dwarven king’s hand in his.  “There, there,” he said sweetly.  “Don’t be sad.  I know it must be a great loss to you, but at least we have baby Durin to fuss over.”

 

Thorin was totally flummoxed: he really, really didn’t know what to say about the way that Thranduil had rationalised everything in his own head.  In the end, he sighed and decided to say nothing at all.

 

“Come on,” continued the elf in comforting tones.  “Let’s have a cuddle.”  And he threw back the covers of his bed and invited the dwarf to join him.  He belly was as flat as a pancake and his smell was as it had always been.

 

“Just a cuddle, mind you,” he added.  “No sex.  I have no desire to get pregnant again.”

 

Thorin let out a long, weary suspiration but climbed in anyway.  “Actually a good fuck might make me feel a bit better,” he said optimistically.

 

“My poor darling,” murmured the elf, kissing him tenderly.  “You might be right, I suppose.”  Then, after a moment’s consideration:  “All right, but just the one.”  And Thranduil rolled onto his back and wrapped his legs around the dwarf, pulling him into an intimate embrace.  “But be careful,” he added, “I’m still feeling rather sore, you know, after giving birth.”

 

Thorin pushed into his lover on a long gasp of pleasure and just hoped that everything would be all right in the morning and that all the crossed wires in Thranduil’s head would finally uncross themselves.  In the meantime……ahhhhhhh…….

 

.o00o.

 

**I’ve got a feeling that we haven’t seen the end of this, what with Thranduil feeling a bit mixed up and a new baby in the family.  But, I’ll save that story for a while.  Next week, we get serious again with _The Kings and the Terrible Secret_.  What can the secret be?  Well, whatever it is, it’s bound to threaten Thorin and Thranduil’s relationship once more as we see the return of one of their old enemies.**

**Thanks for reading and I hope that my efforts helped to lighten your day.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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